


I'll carve a home out of you

by myn_x



Series: ♡✧:｡Kinktober 2017｡:✧♡ [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Consensual Somnophilia, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12276978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: requested by an anon, bless you whoever you are! i hope this counts as somnophilia lol ^^""





	I'll carve a home out of you

**Author's Note:**

> requested by an anon, bless you whoever you are! i hope this counts as somnophilia lol ^^""

Their schedules conflict more than they'd like, which means the opportunity for physical intimacy is sweet but fleeting, but they make up for it with filthy messages read under the work meeting table and hungry eyes that feast on suggestive photos during breaks. Sometimes Wakatoshi, emboldened by Oikawa's cheek, will snatch a few glances while still at his desk, the risk he takes in doing so sending shivers down his spine. Oikawa is such a tease, showing him just enough to make him wet with want for more, and Wakatoshi can't say whether he's blessed or cursed when he has to subtly adjust his pants to hide the strain of his erection.

By the time he gets home most days Oikawa is already asleep, feigned scowl and pout both tucked away for the night, and Wakatoshi aches for the bite of his sharp tongue soothed with a kiss. He remembers when Oikawa would stay up for him just so he could steal back what time took because _you're_ mine _, Wakatoshi_ , before Wakatoshi had made him see that he couldn't keep up at his job if he exhausted himself, that it means more to him that Oikawa is always, always at his best.

And it's a point of pride for Oikawa that they make it work, that his daytime job as a coordinator at an emerging talent agency and Wakatoshi's investigations, which often carry into the night, aren't a point of contention. Yes, they're mostly parallel lines, Oikawa had said, but that also means they're always in sync, on the same wavelength, a product born of their mutual trust, self-reliance, and unwavering sense of security in each other.

Wakatoshi had known Oikawa was managing just fine the first time he'd gotten a message about his coworkers' inquiries regarding the hickies he'd forgotten to cover up. It didn't take long for him to edge into more risque territory, chipping away at Wakatoshi's stoic mask, making paperwork near impossible.

_My hips are so sore from this morning, feels so good when i have to walk halfway up the building and i can still feel your nails digging into my thighs as you fuck me open with your tongue_

_I want to ride your face and come with your fingers and tongue deep inside me, massaging my walls_

_I love it when you fuck me hard so hard that I bruise. I press down on them and imagine it's you when I miss you. I miss you, I miss your cock spilling inside me, and I miss your voice when it breaks on my name_

Wakatoshi's silence never bothers Oikawa, who doesn't need any cues to keep going, to keep pushing, so that the next time they fuck it's rougher deeper faster to even out the frustration they both have to stifle. Oikawa says pictures of the tents he raises in Wakatoshi's slacks are more than adequate compensation for having to wait, and Wakatoshi comforts himself with thoughts of those milky, yielding thighs, scored with his marks and wrapped around his waist.

 

 

Guilt weighs heavy on Wakatoshi when he can't help but to press his stiffened cock to Oikawa's backside once he's showered off the grime of his work and slipped into their bed.

They both sleep naked to savor the skin-to-skin contact afforded to them in sleep. To Oikawa, it's his open invitation. He never fails to remind Wakatoshi that he can always take what he needs from him -- and _wants_ him to, as a matter of fact -- but there are certain lines Wakatoshi will not cross. He caresses Oikawa's cheek, brushing a flamboyant lock of hair behind his ear before pressing a kiss to the soft, sleep-warm skin of his neck. His cock twitches toward Oikawa when he shifts back against him in subconscious need.

Wakatoshi reaches around Oikawa, palm skating over his skin feather-light, to take his half-hard length in hand. The pressure makes Oikawa stir, causing a chain reaction that sets Wakatoshi's blood alight with desire when the friction hits his groin, like sparks parting from flint. When Wakatoshi strokes him, long pulls from the base to where he spreads the dampness over the tip, Oikawa slow breath hitches and dissolve into sleepy moans low in his throat.

The feel of Oikawa's bare skin slipping against him is almost too much. No matter how much Wakatoshi longs for Oikawa when they're apart and wishes they could spend more time existing within arm's length of each other, there aren't enough gods for him to thank that he can still have these little moments where nothing exists but soft panted breaths and subtle twitch of hips. He squeezes Oikawa tighter, pumps his hand faster, aided by the precome that leaks from his slit.

"Mmmm, Waka--Wakatoshi." The final syllable dissolves into a whine, and Wakatoshi arches closer, melding himself to Oikawa, close enough that he can feel the alignment of their wild heartbeats. " _Wakatoshi_."

At the utterance of his name -- a wrecked, broken sound that spills from Oikawa's lips -- Wakatoshi chokes on a moan, the thought of Oikawa taking him as his dreams blend into reality sparking a jolt of arousal that curls in his belly.

Wakatoshi wants, but only if Oikawa does too, and has to be absolutely certain that he's okay with going any further. "Are you lucid enough to consent to more?" he whispers, voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

"I thought the whole point was to rail me while I'm _still sleeping_ ," Oikawa grumbles, more awake than he let on. He doesn't even bother to open his eyes, but he reaches his arm behind him to snag his fingers in Wakatoshi's hair. "I'm lucid enough to put your dick in my ass myself if you don't hush and get on with it."

Wakatoshi smiles, already set on indulging Oikawa, neither of them able to resist the magnetic pull of the other. Releasing his hold on Oikawa, Wakatoshi brings his slick fingertips to Oikawa's lips and thrusts gently into his eager mouth, slipping against his tongue.

"Taste yourself, Tooru," Wakatoshi says and nips at his earlobe, rolling it between his teeth. He drops his voice to the growl that raises gooseflesh on the back of Oikawa's neck. "How often do you lick yourself off of your fingers when I'm not around to taste you myself?"

Oikawa responds with a keening moan around the three fingers Wakatoshi has hooked in his mouth, blindly reaching behind him for Wakatoshi's cock. He palms him awkwardly, Wakatoshi's length caught between his hand and where he's smears precome on the rise of his ass.

Satisfied with the amount of spit coating his fingers, Wakatoshi withdraws them and nudges Oikawa's thighs apart to massage circles into his tight, fluttering hole. Oikawa's body is pliant and unresistant in its semi-conscious state, and as Wakatoshi pushes a finger past the first ring of muscle and into narrow heat, his groan matches Oikawa's gasp of pleasure.

His fingers are thick and calloused, and saliva isn't sufficient to mitigate the dull pain of the stretch, so he waits for Oikawa to adjust to the intrusion before pushing deeper and testing a few short thrusts, stilling when Oikawa's mouth falls open in a cry from the burn of a second finger. Then Oikawa pushes back on him and Wakatoshi slides deeper, nearly losing it when Oikawa clenches and relaxes around him greedily, silently begging for a third.

Sweat gathers on Wakatoshi's brow amid the growing heat between their bodies, and he hides his face in the crook of Oikawa's flushed neck, biting down in an attempt to direct his growing impatience elsewhere. It would not do to rush and hurt Oikawa, and even in the sultry haze of their lovemaking Wakatoshi paces himself, the grind of his fingers slow and lingering as he coaxes Oikawa to looseness.

"You're always too careful," Oikawa murmurs between needy little whines that escape while Wakatoshi strokes over his sweet spot. "Leave me something to remember, will you?"

Wakatoshi tuts at him, but Oikawa's words flood him with a warm rush of molten affection that melts his resolve. After he reluctantly pulls out, Oikawa languidly tongues his own fingers, coating them liberally, and works them over Wakatoshi's shaft with the same fumbled movements from before. Their bodies move according to memory, Oikawa tilting his hips to meet the angle of Wakatoshi's cock as he slides into him, their twin sighs heavy with contentment.

Oikawa signals the okay to move with a little hum, and Wakatoshi splits him over his cock with his knee hitched over his elbow. Sinking him down until he's fully sheathed inside, he grinds against him carefully, his pelvis flush with the curve of Oikawa's ass, their skin tacky with sweat.

Wakatoshi holds back until he has Oikawa whimpering and limber, then he pulls out, breath sharpening to a hiss at the delicious drag of Oikawa's rim stretched around him. He pauses to let the head tease just inside him, plunging it shallowly into his hole a few times before his control breaks and he slams back into that tight, welcoming heat, losing himself to the silky glide.

Wakatoshi's breath rasps out in time with the snap of his hips as he buries his cock deep into Oikawa over and over again. Sweat collects on Wakatoshi's skin, plastering his hair to his temples. His senses narrow to the lovely sound of Oikawa's liquid moans, to the feeling of Oikawa's heat tightening around him with his approaching climax, all of his focus directed on the pulsing sensation that draws him in hungrily.

Oikawa brushes his fingertips up and down the underside of his length as he spills messily, and Wakatoshi will never get over the way Oikawa calls his name when he comes. It's usually the thing that sends him over, too, the reverent cadence of his voice -- it strikes him somewhere deep where it settles and aches until the next time, has his hips stuttering out of rhythm as he chases Oikawa's orgasm with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> original prompt list: [☆](https://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com/post/164156385511/kinktober-2017)
> 
> my picks (NOT in order): [♡](https://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com/post/165843243141/hi-hello-kinktober-is-nearly-upon-us-so-its-time)
> 
> [tumblr](http://fucklev.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/lovedeluxxxe)


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